Arachne — Volume 02 eBook

“That is perfectly true,” answered Bias,
“but she had to atone cruelly for this triumph;
the goddess struck her on the forehead with the weaver’s
shuttle, and when, in her shame and rage, she tried
to hang herself, she was transformed into the spider.”

Ledscha stood still, and, while drawing the veil over
her pallid face, asked with quivering lips, “And
is there no other Arachne?”

“Not among mortals,” was the reply, “but
even here in this house there are more than enough
of the disagreeable, creeping creatures which bear
the same name.”

Ledscha now went clown the steps which led to the
lawn, and Bias saw that she stumbled on the last one
and would have fallen had not her lithe body regained
its balance in time.

“A bad omen!” thought the slave.
“If I had the power to build a wall between
my master and the spider yonder, it should be higher
than the lighthouse of Sostratus. To heed omens
guides one safely through life. I know what I
know, and will keep my eyes open, for my master too.”

CHAPTER IX.

Hermon had intended to add a few more touches to his
Demeter, but he could not do it. Ledscha, her
demand, and the resentment with which she had left
him, were not to be driven from his mind.

There was no doubt that he must seek her if he was
not to lose her, yet he reproached himself for having
acted like a thoughtless fool when he proposed to
divide the night between her and Daphne.

There was something offensive in the proposal to so
proud a creature. He ought to have promised positively
to come, and then left the banquet somewhat earlier.
It would have been easy to apologize for his late
arrival, and Ledscha would have had no cause to be
angry with him.

Now she had, and her resentment awakened in him—­though
he certainly did not lack manly courage—­an
uncomfortable feeling closely allied to anxiety.

Angered by his own conduct, he asked himself whether
he loved the barbarian, and could find no satisfactory
answer.

At their first meeting he had felt that she was far
superior to the other Biamite maidens, not only in
beauty but in everything else. The very acerbity
of her nature had seemed charming. To win this
wonderful, pliant creature, slender as a cypress,
whose independence merged into fierce obstinacy, had
appeared to him worth any sacrifice; and having perceived
in her an admirable model for his Arachne, he had also
determined to brave the dangers which might easily
arise for the Greek from a love affair with a Biamite
girl, whose family was free and distinguished.

It had been easier for him to win her heart than he
expected; yet at none of the meetings which she granted
him had he rejoiced in the secret bond between them.

Hitherto her austere reserve had been invincible,
and during the greater part of their interviews he
had been compelled to exert all his influence to soothe,
appease her, and atone for imprudent acts which he
had committed.